Cry
He'd been eight years old when his life first got screwed up.
His parents had gotten divorced, and to an eight year old, it's like the end of the world.
The worst thing was that the other woman was nice. Honest to god nice, and had been completely unaware that the man she was dating had already been married with two children.
The woman broke up with his father when she found out, but the damage had already been done.
His mother was devastated. Akaya used to sit next to her during the days and nights when his father wasn't around, and do his best to comfort a weeping woman.
She would keep up a cold front whenever her husband was around, and Akaya, though he feels terrible for it, prayed for those times. Prayed for his mother to freeze and be cold and stop crying.
Eight years old is much too young to deal with that.
Akaya's sister had tried her best to comfort their mother too, but she had always been Daddy's Little Girl, and so she stuck closer to their father.
"It's her fault for being so cold," his sister had whispered to him once, in the dead of night.
It had been the day when the Kirihara siblings first started to grow apart.
Throughout the whole messy break, Akaya never shed a tear. It was as if his mother had sucked out all his tears and cried them for him. Sometimes, his eyes felt too dry to be right, and he really wished that he could cry.
He couldn't.
Their father eventually left, fed up with trying to mend ties with a woman who refused to believe it could work, but too afraid to let him go.
It broke his mother's heart, but his mother refused to acknowledge it.
Admitting it is the first step to healing, and his mother had never been strong enough to take it.
Instead, she started dating men way below her standard, because it made her feel better.
Akaya would sit in his room those nights, curled up, clutching his knees, and wishing he could cry.
He still couldn't.
It hurt.
-0-0-0-
When he was ten, his teacher assigned the class a topic called, "My Family", and told them to write an essay of at least 2 pages about it.
Akaya had spent hours staring at the blank paper and clenching his pen so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Finally, Akaya closed his eyes and remembered the days when his mother was warm, his father was home, and his sister was still his best friend.
His pen started to move, and eventually, he created an essay of everything his family had been, and what he wished it still was.
He got an A for it, and when he saw the grade, he sat at his table and just laughed, while inside, he cried for the family he'd never see again.
He wished the tears would fall.
Somehow, until now, he hasn't been able to cry.
He wished that he could.
-0-0-0-
At the age of eleven, his mother started bringing home boyfriends that smelled of alcohol, and sex, and cigarettes.
Akaya tried to stay out of their way, but sometimes it was unavoidable that he would end up in the same area as them.
They would glare at him. The unwanted baggage to the lady they were dating, and scowl at him fiercely when his mother's back was turned.
Sometimes, he'd get a backhand to the face for 'looking at them wrong'.
His mother never took action against them, because she always said that he deserved it. He'd see a flash of regret in her eyes sometimes, but she would never speak out for him, in fear that another man would leave her.
And so, nursing his swollen cheek one night, he heard a dark voice begin to creep in his ear, and whisper words he tried to block out.
'These bastards who try to take your mother away from you, who have taken her away from you… I will rip them apart. I will protect you from the pain.'
He froze, and tried to ignore it.
It worked for a while.
And then, one day, when he accidentally broke one of his mother's boyfriends' phone, and got a hard punch for his stupidity, the clumsy mental barriers fell apart, and he fell into a kind of cloudy oblivion.
He was still vaguely aware of the world, but it felt like there was a cotton wool barrier in between reality and in his head. It felt good.
He could sort of feel his fist connecting with the man's face, and his voice growing louder as he screamed (an unconscious part of him shuddered at the vicious delight lurking in his voice), and he could feel his leg twinge slightly as he kicked the man in the knees.
The man was stunned for several seconds before retaliating. He grabbed Akaya by the throat, and Akaya was dimly aware of his knee rising in self defense.
His mother rushed in, shocked by the noise, and stepped between them just as Akaya's fist swung out to smash the bastard's nose.
Then, as he rammed his mother's shoulder instead, the fuzzy barrier vanished abruptly, as Akaya recoiled from the thought of hurting his mother.
There was a stifling silence for several seconds, as his mother stared at him with wide eyes and clutched her shoulders, as he stared back at her with large, horrified eyes.
The man behind her had snarled something, probably an insult, but it went unheard to the pair.
White in the face, Akaya finally gabbled something nonsensically before running to his room and slamming the door.
He curled up on his bed and stared at his hands, in a blank, stunned way.
After a while, and just dimly aware of shouting going on in the living room, Akaya could hear the dark voice start whispering to him again, underneath the waves of horror and shock.
'Wasn't that lovely? Can't you hear your mother screaming at that asshole for hitting you? For once? She'll be mad at you, of course, but she won't be seeing that man again. You'll have her attention back on you.'
Guiltily, Akaya could feel some relief from the dark words echoing in his head. Like a beast smelling blood, it continued maliciously.
'And don't you like not thinking? It's good, isn't it? That fuzzy blurred feeling you got? If you want, I'll be more careful next time. I won't make a mistake like that again. You can give me the reins when you feel like the world is getting to rough… Take a rest.'
Akaya could feel his resolve wavering. It was right. He did like not thinking, not feeling. It was so… nice after so many years of hurting and wishing and hurting some more.
After all, it hadn't really done anything he hadn't wanted… If it promised not to touch his mother again, he could let it return, right?
His knuckles clenched until they were bone white, and he whispered, "If you promise not to hurt anyone I care about. If you promise to make the hurt go away… I suppose we could share the time."
The voice chuckled, low and sultry, 'I promise. I will bloody all those who try and hurt you. Who try to make you fall. I will protect you, and in return, I simply ask for some blood of those bastards. Fair?'
Unaware that he was signing himself to years of torment and guilt, Akaya whispered, "Fair."
In the darkness of the room, Akaya's eyes flashed red.
Deep inside Akaya's mind, the demon laughed, 'Nice to meet you, Kirihara Akaya. I am your alter-ego. You can call me Red.'
Trembling, because Akaya had the sneaking suspicion that this 'Red' could care less about him, he mumbled, "Hello."
There was a knock on the door, and his mother's voice calling his name.
Now that he knew what was talking to him, Akaya could feel it clearer, and he sensed the thing retreating into his mind, dormant.
He raised his head to stare at the door, and opened it slowly, scared of facing his mother. Scared to look at the woman he loved most in the world.
His mother didn't say a word, and just hugged him to her, as her warm tears soaked his hair.
Unconsciously, he could feel tears streaking down his face. He raised a lightly trembling hand to brush them away.
He was… crying?
For the first time in years, Akaya let the tears come, and flow until they ran dry, and finally just stop when he fell asleep.
In the recesses of his mind, the demon purred, and knew that he had a hold on the boy now.
Kirihara Akaya, you will be fun to crush.
-0-0-0-
I felt like writing something angsty for once, but did I do it well? You tell me…
I always figured that Akaya wouldn't go bat-shit crazy for no reason at all. This is my version of what happened.
I'm not sure if I pulled it off as well as I'd like.
Gah!
But it's nice to write a one-shot. I don't have to worry about updating this one, haha.
Hope that you liked it!
~FO